


Five Better Greetings (and One Worse)

by a_windsor



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24830107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_windsor/pseuds/a_windsor
Summary: From Heir-to-the-commander's prompt on Tumblr: "In Arrow 2x13, Nyssa's first line to Sara is "I've had better greetings." What were those better greetings during their time in the League together?"
Relationships: Nyssa al Ghul/Sara Lance
Comments: 13
Kudos: 111





	Five Better Greetings (and One Worse)

**Author's Note:**

> Canon! Mostly League 1.0, with the worse at the end of Season 2.

Five Better Greetings (and One Worse)

1.

Nyssa waits at their foundling’s bedside until, eighteen hours after they pulled her, half-drowned, off the shores of Lian Yu, her eyes flutter open. Those eyes are a pretty blue, not at all uncommon for someone whose bedraggled hair appears to be blonde. Cleaned of blood and behind the darkened bruises, the young woman they saved and brought aboard is rather lovely, though she could use a shower and several meals.

The rescuee takes a second to orient herself to her surroundings. When she does, she brings her light eyes over to Nyssa, and a wide grin spreads across her face.

“Hey.”

Nyssa al Ghul, Heir to the Demon, is not easily caught off guard, but this greeting, free of fear or ever shock, does surprise her. She finds herself chuckling a bit as she says:

“Hello.”

“Is this heaven?” the foundling asks. “’Cause I think there’s been a mistake. I should probably be downstairs, but I know they don’t make demons as pretty as you.”

***

2.

Nyssa raps her knuckles against the bunk room door to gain her newest trainee’s attention. She’s a bit annoyed about having to do it: Taer al Asfer should be more attentive to her surroundings. Keeping her back to the door is downright suicidal, even if (or especially because) the dormitory is empty, early afternoon sun filtering through the windows, catching dust motes. In the usually crowded bunks, Taer al Asfer should be constantly on her guard, at the very least until she finds some allies. As a brand new recruit who has earned the attention and favor of the Heir herself, Taer al Asfer is a target for her ruthless fellow trainees.

But Nyssa’s rebuke dies on her lips when Sara turns, recognizes her, and greets her with a bright, beaming smile.

“Hey, you. Are we ready to start training?”

Nyssa sighs, but her heart still flutters warmly.

“I see we are going to have to start from the _very_ beginning when it comes to discipline.”

***

3.

Nyssa is a lethally trained assassin, Heir to the Demon, but even she struggles with opening the front door of the safe house with her arms full of groceries. She’s annoyed by that, and long lines, and a delayed mission, when she sets the bags on the sparse, particle board counters. Her annoyance evaporates, though, when now familiar arms wrap around her middle from behind.

Taer al Asfer (or, as of recently, her Sara) is usually all bravado and swagger back in Nanda Parbat, especially now that they are now more than simply teacher and student. But out in the field, in these first missions of administering death, she is more tentative. Still coming to terms, Nyssa thinks, with the realities of her new life.

So, feeling Sara’s embrace, warm and inviting around her, eases not only Nyssa’s annoyance but her worry, too.

“Hello,” Nyssa says, relishing the little kiss Sara presses to her shoulder. This is ill-advised, this something more that they are now, but it was inevitable, from the first moment Sara opened her eyes on a little boat in the North China Sea.

“Hey,” Sara gives her another squeeze, then pulls away and begins rifling through the grocery bags. “You get anything good?”

***




Nyssa takes a few moments after she dismounts to gather herself, shaking away the weariness of travel and the soreness of the mission’s battles. When she walks her horse through the front gate of Nanda Parbat, she must be the Heir in all her stalwart glory. She must not show the way this long solo mission weighs heavily on her, nor how much she longs for the comfort of her quarters and who, hopefully, waits for her there.

With one final deep breath, reins in hand, she approaches the gate. As is customary, she lowers her face covering as soon as she is in view of the watch’s barred window, confirming her identity. The viewport slides closed as the larger gate rumbles open, just large enough for horse and dismounted rider.

She is greeted inside by assassins at attention. A stable groom comes to retrieve her mount. She nods appreciatively to the boy, and with a wave of her hand, dismisses the gathered assassins back to their regular duties.

One assassin, at the end of the sandstone entryway, does not disperse, instead raising her hands to lower her hood and reveal familiar blonde braids.

“Hey,” Sara grins at her, grabbing at Nyssa’s dirty traveling cloak and pulling her close.

It’s terribly indecorous, but Nyssa gratefully melts into Sara’s kiss. Her Beloved is terrible at decorum, and Nyssa does love her for it.

“That’s just a preview,” Sara whispers in Nyssa’s ear before pulling away. “I’ll save the rest for our quarters; I know you hate PDA.”

Nyssa happily allows herself to be lead away.

***

5.

Nyssa tries not to watch the clock. It will irk her father to no end. But this meeting has droned on far longer than necessary – Ra’s al Ghul is in one of those moods where he loves nothing so much as the sound of his own voice. Finally, several _dozen_ minutes too many later, the meeting disperses, and Nyssa makes haste towards her own quarters, nearly sprinting through Nanda Parbat’s stone hallways. It is very likely that Sara has returned from an assignment during that interminable meeting, and Nyssa is anxious to see her.

She is not disappointed.

When Nyssa enters their bedroom, she finds it full of flickering candles, the soft scent of sandalwood, and her Beloved Taer al Asfer, wrapped in nothing but their red silk sheets.

Sara, who has always struggled with idle waiting, looks up with a wry smile and recklessly tosses aside the book she was reading.

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“Took you long enough,” Sara faux-yawns, stretching dramatically so the sheets fall away and leave only glorious bare skin. “I almost feel asleep waiting for-“

She doesn’t get to finish her teasing though. Nyssa growls with want and pounces on her, quickly turning Sara’s laugh into a moan.

***

+

Word travels ever so swiftly in Nanda Parbat, even when people are actively trying to keep something from the Heir.

So Nyssa finds herself in Ra’s al Ghul’s throne room in no time, news of Taer al Asfer’s repentant return hurrying her feet.

Sara stands in front of Nyssa’s father, arms crossed behind her back, shoulders square, gaze ever so slightly averted. She is the picture of obedience, almost comically perfect, given what they all know about Nyssa’s _dis_ obedient, often irreverent Yellow Bird.

Ra’s al Ghul stays seated on his throne, glancing just barely at Nyssa when she bursts in. Sara stiffens but will not turn to look at her. It is confirmation that Sara _was_ taking in everything Nyssa ever taught her, even if she’s never once shown it in the realm of etiquette before.

“Our deal is struck, then, Taer al Asfer. I, for one, welcome your return,” Ra’s says.

“I am forever in your debt, My Demon,” Sara replies earnestly.

Every word of the exchange sickens Nyssa.

“I must see to things elsewhere,” Ra’s announces, standing.

Sara drops a textbook bow, and Nyssa’s father disappears through his private door.

Just when Nyssa didn’t think her nausea could get any stronger, Sara turns to her and immediately drops to one penitent knee.

“I didn’t think your greetings could get any _worse_ ,” Nyssa sneers.

“Nyssa, I-“

“You were _free_. I risked everything to secure it,” Nyssa hisses.

Sara is the only one with the power to make a fool of her, and she does it again and again and again.

Sara stays kneeling, looking up, wordless. It is so different to see her like this, when Nyssa has only every seen her vibrant, defiant, or… willing to die to be free of her.

“You come back begging for aid, when months ago the viper’s poison seemed a better alternative to this life.”

“That’s not the only-“

“Stand up,” Nyssa snaps. She does not want subservient Taer al Asfer.

“I need help, yes,” Sara says, standing. “But I know what I’m doing-“

“Throwing away the sacrifice I made for you, so that you can save Oliver Queen and Starling City, and then slowly drift away again.”

“No,” Sara shakes her head, finally defiant again. “No, Nyssa. I came back for y-“

Nyssa cuts her off, unable to hear that and still hold up her shield against the weakness Sara instills in her.

“Search your heart before you say those words, habibti. I will not survive you leaving again.”

Though she is no coward, she is neither a stranger to a strategic retreat, and she turns heel before Sara can start to speak.

She pretends she does not hear Sara whisper to her back:

“I came back for you.”

***

fin


End file.
